Passion Approaches
by Aelia Weasley
Summary: UPDATED* Ron and Hermione move into their first flat. Different vignettes into their lives as they learn how to live together.
1. Move-In Day

**Thanks for reading! Please Leave a Review!**

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

"Put your back into it, dammit Harry!" I was losing my grip on the sofa as we made our way slowly up the stairs. "This thing weighs as much as a bleeding troll!"

"I'm going up stairs, backward Ron. Unless you want to carry this sodding thing by yourself you'd better shut it! I'm doing you a favor, by the way! It's my weekend off, too!" He snapped at me.

I grimaced as we moved ever-so-slowly up the stairs towards my flat. Our flat, Hermione's and mine.

I had begged Hermione to let me transfigure it into something smaller and more manageable but she was on one of her "doing things the Muggle way" kicks. I swear if I didn't love her so much I'd have told Harry to just leave the fucking thing wedged in the stairway and Hermione could sort it out for herself. She'd all but promised me the world's greatest knob job if I got us moved in the Muggle way. I sighed and pushed my shoulder into the armrest.

The things I did just to get into her knickers.

Dad and George came to help us for the afternoon. Ginny was in Spain playing with the Harpies and Mum was back at home. She wasn't helping us move as a means of protest. She was truly hacked off at us; well, _me_ really (I don't think she possessed the ability to be hacked off at Hermione).

I could still hear her screeching at me as I packed up my room in boxes.

"You're not married yet, Ronald!"

"I'm keenly aware of that, Mum." I rolled my eyes. There wasn't Sweet Fanny Adams she could say to change my mind.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man! Your father and I raised you better than this! What will people think?" Her arms were wrapped across her chest and her lips were two tightly-stretched thin lines.

"They'll think I'm a grown man capable of living on his own." I tried not to yell back, it would only rile her more.

"You come and go as you please here! Why do you have to move out?!" She sounded ready to cry.

"Because it's the next step, Mum." I hoisted my rucksack hastily packed with clothes over my shoulder and turned to her. She was standing in the doorway, as if ready to physically block my exit.

"Marriage is the next step, Ron. Not...shacking up." Her eyes hardened on me. The knowing look on her face made me uncomfortable.

There were a number of reasons I wanted out of my parent's house. Mum's refusal to let Hermione sleep in my room when she spent the night was chief among them. Not even to shag; I just wanted the freedom to kiss her goodnight and wake up with her next to me. She snuck up into my room a number of times in the middle of the night. She'd curl up in my arms and we'd listen to each other breathe, but we were always afraid to fall asleep. It wouldn't be worth Mum barging in on us the next morning.

I knew this wasn't done in Wizarding families, not widely anyway. People got married, and then they lived together. As relaxed and un-snobbish as my family was, I was breaking a taboo. Not even my confirmed bachelor brother Charlie co-habited with any of the many (many) girls he'd been with. I suspected it was primarily because he wasn't ever with one long enough, but that was neither here nor there.

"Why don't you just move in with George at the shop? You already sleep there when you work late..."

I rolled my eyes again. _Move in with George. That's a great idea. I really love listening to him and Angelina go at it all night, Mum. Honest. No sarcasm there at all._

It's true that Angelina wasn't living with George before the wedding, but she was there often enough. Mum seemed contentedly unaware.

"Mum, I am going to marry her, we just want to live together first. We have no privacy here." I could have left it at that. But I hesitated a moment and added: "And she's...she's inot/i pregnant."

I turned beetroot just saying it. Mum's eyes widened and she went slack-jawed as if she'd just caught us going at it. I'd confirmed that Hermione and I were in fact sleeping together. Aside from the time that my Dad had given me and Harry "The Talk", this was the most awkward moment I'd ever experienced as a son.

She shuddered, as if the thought of an illegitimate grandchild made her physically ill, "Who said anything about her being...being..."

"I'm just telling you, in case you were worried about it." I sighed, interrupting her. I immediately wished I'd never gone down this road. The conversation was surely not going to improve from this point.

"I wasn't, but I am _now_, Ronald!" She raked her hands through her graying hair.

I shook my head and excused myself out of my bedroom and stomped down the stairs, knowing I'd just thrown a gigantic spanner in the works.

Harry was loading some of my boxes into his car. "That sounded fun." He smirked. We heard Mum yelling from my room, the roof was practically shaking.

"Blimey, the sound carries, doesn't it?" I said, looking up at the open windows in the house.

"Yeah, well you just told your Mum that you're moving out so you can shag Hermione in peace, it wasn't going to be a quiet conversation, was it?" Harry laughed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xx

The flat wasn't big, but it was ours. I had done a grocery shopping earlier and everything was tucked away, orderly and neat. I flitted around the kitchen, arranging my brand-new cookware and utensils just so. They were a housewarming gift from my parents, along with a set of brand new towels and the sofa Ron and Harry were probably struggling with.

I didn't know how they'd feel about Ron and me living together but they were shockingly supportive, especially my dad.

Ron came for dinner one night and over dessert, we told them. We wanted to move into a flat closer to the Ministry, where I was working and where he'd eventually have his office once he completed training. I had a right case of collywobbles as I spoke. I was ready for them to protest, but even as Mum opened her mouth to speak, Dad took her hand and said they'd love to help us outfit our new place.

Ron and Dad shared a smile that I never quite figured out but since there wasn't any yelling going on, I decided not to push my luck.

My parents were out of town at a convention the weekend Ron and I got our keys so Mr. Weasley and George volunteered to help. Ron and Harry were at the Burrow, packing things up so I was alone with them. They were so sweet and patient with me while I decided which way I preferred the bed to face.

The bed. Our bed. Ron's and mine.

It was the first time I was glad Mrs. Weasley hadn't come. As much as I hated that she was upset, it would have been dead awkward to be in the same room with her while I decided if I wanted to face east or west when I shagged her son. It was bad enough with Mr. Weasley pretending to be oblivious and George wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I must have turned three shades of crimson when George asked me where I wanted him to put my "box of knickers". He held it out to me and I glared at him. It clearly said "knick-knacks" in my Mum's handwriting. I took it from him with one hand and whacked him with the other.

They were sitting out on our small balcony with some tea and biscuits when I heard the banging in the hallway. The voices were muffled but I guessed Ron and Harry had made it to the top of the stairs. I pulled the door open and Harry nearly knocked me over.

"Sorry, Herm- Oi! Quit shoving!" Harry yelped as Ron gave his end of the sofa a hard push. Luckily, I thought to measure the doorway so I was sure it would fit through, no magic required. I wasn't against using magic of course, but I didn't think it needed to be used for absolutely everything. It's just my Muggleborn background, I suppose. I knew it was entirely possible to do things without magic so why not?

After a good deal of hollering at the sofa and each other, Ron and Harry managed to get it inside and put it in place.

It had taken the majority of the day, but for the most part, we were moved in. There were stacks of boxes piled everywhere but Ron and I could get through them gradually. It would be a few days before we could get our fireplace connected to the Floo Network so George said goodbye and Disapperated. He and Angelina were very close to the date of their wedding and there was so much left to arrange. Mr. Weasley said he wanted to get home to start smoothing things over and Harry volunteered to give him a lift in his new car.

"She'll come around, not to worry. She loves you both. I'm not thrilled with this arrangement either but you're grown now, you can do as you choose. Mum's just not used the idea of empty beds; one by one you've all left the nest." Mr. Weasley said kindly. He gave us each a hug before he went to wait for Harry by the car. Ron sighed in relief.

Harry opened our fridge and gulped down a Coca-Cola.

"The next time you move - don't do it in the summer, ok?" he joked wiping the sweat from his brow on the back of his arm. "And for Merlin's sake, Hermione, just let us use magic." He said his goodbyes and nearly forgot his keys on the table by the door.

"When are you going to let me drive the car?" Ron asked rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"When you get a driver's license." I answered for Harry.

"Aw, come on killjoy!" Ron whined "I drove a flying car when I was 12, how much harder can it be to drive one that stays on the ground?"

"Need I remind you that you icrashed/i the flying car?" I looked at him, chuckling and toeing my sandals off.

"Yeah, Ron, get your license, then we'll talk." Harry said winking at me. Ron mumbled something that sounded like "specky tosser" and gave him a joking two-finger salute as Harry exited, leaving us alone in our own flat for the first time.

Ron hooked his finger in the belt loop of my shorts and pulled me into him. "Welcome home, Miss Granger." He said sweetly, kissing me. I grinned.

"I'm sorry your mum took it so hard. I really am." I said brushing his fringe out of his eyes.

Ron shrugged, "She'll get over it, like Dad said. Let's not talk about Mum. Let's talk about my reward for doing things your way."

He drew me in closer and nibbled my earlobe. His hot breath was on my neck a second later and then his tongue traced a line back up to my ear. I felt his fingertips graze the skin of my stomach under the hem of my shirt, doing a delicate dance up under the fabric, higher still until his hand was inside my bra.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As I was feeling Hermione up in the middle of the room knowing no one would walk in on us, my mind raced. I felt like such a kid, only 20 years old and living on my own. Not exactly on my own. Living with Hermione. My first thought was, "She can be as fucking loud as she wants."

It was an entirely pleasant surprise when Hermione turned out to be a loud, wild one in bed. Not the first few times, I think we were both too bloody nervous. Once I had a better idea of what to do, she let go of her inhibitions and I take complete credit for that. There were no lists, no schedules - nothing neat and organized.

I had nothing to compare it to, but I knew it turned me on. When I was away from her for weeks at a time because of training, it made me hard just thinking about the next time I'd get to make her scream my name. Shit, the things she said in the midst of it sometimes. It would be indelicate of me to repeat them. She scolded me for my habit of swearing too much but she legitimately made me blush more than once.

I eased her top off and unhooked her bra with a learned flick of my wrist. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I pulled her up off the floor with my hands on her bum. Her legs locked around my waist as we probed each other's mouths with our tongues. She made that soft whiny/moany noise that makes me randy as hell.

The bedroom was too far away; I carried her blindly to the kitchen counter and sat her down as she tugged at my shirt. She dropped her legs from my waist and I heard her heels softly bang against the bottom cupboards. The soft flesh of her tits rubbing on my bare chest sent a bolt of electricity to my crotch. Her tits are absolutely perfect.

"All you need is a handful!" Bill once teased me with a wink. We'd all gone swimming during a visit to Shell Cottage and he caught me staring at Hermione in her black two piece bathing suit, I was admittedly drooling.

I ran my hands up her legs from her knees to her inner thighs, letting my thumbs tuck under the fabric of her shorts. She moaned in my ear when I pushed my hand a little further up so my thumb grazed her knickers. I began running my thumb up and down over the fabric, enjoying her excited panting. The more time I took the louder and more desperate her moaning became. When I snuck my thumb under and only slightly in between her folds, she cried out and dug her nails into my back.

"Oh fucking shit, you're so..."

Wet. That's the word I was about to say but she scooped it right out of my mouth with her tongue. As our mouths came apart from each other, she shoved me backward and hopped down from the counter, her hands tugging her shorts down. She smoothed her hair with her hands crossing the distance between us slowly and to my great surprise, dropped to her knees.

She pulled my trousers open while staring directly into my eyes and I saw her tongue dart out of her mouth and wet her lips. I stood there, big and stupid, gaping as she slid my pants down and I was suddenly in her mouth. She groaned hungrily using her hand and her mouth rhythmically. If I lived a thousand years, I knew I'd never see something as erotic as this. I don't think I'd ever been harder in my life.

She put her free hand on my bare arse and pulled me closer, taking all of me into her mouth. She moaned making an incredible vibration all over the shaft. She sucked her cheeks in, increasing the pressure and slid it out slowly. She teased the head, using the tip of her tongue to trace a circle around it, and then swiftly enveloped every bit of it into her mouth again.

"Oooh fuck...stop..." I said, pulling her head away from my cock by her hair. I was on the brink and I needed her to stop. I pulled my trousers and pants the rest of the way down and was on top of her as soon as was possible. The tile floor was cold but it felt good; the heat of the day and of our two bodies pressed against each other had us both glistening with sweat.

"I need to be inside you...let me...please..." I begged.

She shifted her body, getting a leg on either side of my hips. My cock was throbbing and uncomfortably pushed against the soft, wet fabric of her knickers and I rocked my body back and forth, teasing. She bit her lip and kissed me hard. I swiped her knickers to the side and pushed into her. We both cried out in unison. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and her hot velvet pussy tightened around my cock and my head swam with the intensity of it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxx

As many times as I'd let Ron inside me, it honestly still hurt sometimes. I even wondered foolishly if he knew an engorgement charm I'd never heard of. As we rocked back and forth together on our kitchen floor, he thrust his hips and I felt him fill and stretch my being with his presence. The tile was frosty on my bare back and slightly uncomfortable with Ron's pumping motions but I didn't dare stop him, it felt too good.

The first time, my eyes watered when I felt my barrier break and I yelped weakly until the pain gave way to pleasure. This time in particular, it snuck up on me. What usually started as a spark and eventually became a lusty rush of passion began as a roaring bonfire and was soon an uncontrollable inferno. There were explosions and fireworks. The room around us was ablaze and would soon be consumed and turn to ashes. I didn't have to stifle myself anymore; I could let myself feel it without worrying about being overheard.

Lifting my leg I rested my foot just above the tight curve of his bum. He kissed my mouth and my neck leaving wet marks from his tongue. His hands were red-hot when he roughly took hold of my breast. His mouth left my neck only long enough to move down to my nipple which he licked and sucked sending me over the edge.

I clawed hard at Ron's back as my orgasm built inside me. Giving a growl he pinned my arms above my head and pumped his hips twice as strong as before. I thrashed against him trying to wriggle free and I cried out.

"Let me fucking go!"

He didn't hold me down often but it drove me mental. He was so strong. As he gripped my arms, his burning hot blue eyes fixed on mine and we both knew I didn't want him to let go. I felt the release rush up my body from my toes and it hit in several long waves. I arched my back against him as I came, once, twice, three times. My wild moaning was muted and I choked on my own voice; eyes closed my mouth wide open.

"I love to feel you come...but I'm not done with you yet." He said.

He slowed his pace slightly and crushed his lips on mine. My legs shook and he lifted one of them up over his shoulder. He continued much more slowly, pulling almost completely out and then back in again. He let my wrists go. I took his face in my hands and the pace of our passion changed. We were suddenly making love to each other; it was soft, it was sweet.

Still holding his face, our lips met over and over again. Time stood still around us, the only thing that existed was us in this room. We made soft panting noises into each other's mouths.

His breathing became shallow. He closed his eyes and moaned loudly. He went rigid and I felt the liquidy warmth inside me. Dropping his head to my chest and taking my nipple in his mouth, he bit playfully.

While we laid on the tile, I wrote my name with my finger on his back. Not exactly my name. I was tracing "Hermione Weasley" across his skin like some love-struck teenager. I wasn't a teenager anymore, my 21st birthday was in sight - but I was, to borrow a phrase from Ron, arse over tits in love with him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She didn't think I knew what she was writing with her finger on my shoulder.

The first couple of times she did it I thought she was just lazily brushing my skin while we came down together. I caught on though.

It sent a deliriously happy fog through my brain to feel the tip of her chilly finger transition from the lower-case e at the end of her name to a capital W. I don't know how I restrained myself from running down the hallway to the bedroom and digging her grandmother's ring out from the box I'd hidden in the closet. I had a plan for that ring but feeling her scrawl "Hermione Weasley" over and over again made me want to toss that plan out the window.

I leaned up on my elbow and looked her over. Gooseflesh covered much of her body. Her nipples stood at attention while they rose and fell as she breathed.

"You're so bloody beautiful. What are you doing with me?" I asked.

She smirked and turned toward me, also up on her elbow. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against my own.

"Whatever I want to." She teased me with her eyes.

We chuckled, "I'm fine with that." I said. "But really, love. What is so great about me?" I gestured down with my hands and winked, "Besides that of course."

She didn't even need a moment to consider it. "I love you, Ron. There isn't any part of me that doesn't love you. You're the bravest man I've ever known and the most loyal. There is no one that even compares."

My chest felt full, like I was a balloon ready to take flight.

She stared down as she continued, "What I'd like to know is, why me? I'm bossy and overly structured, horribly critical and..." I couldn't believe my ears.

"Shhh. Don't talk about my Hermione like that." I said simply, bopping her on the nose. "My Hermione is adorable when she's bossy. Her nostrils flare up and her cheeks flush. She's beautiful even when she's yelling at me. I purposely do things wrong sometimes just to rile her up. She's the smartest woman I'll ever meet and the most beautiful. And she's got great tits, I win." She laughed and pushed me playfully onto my back.

"You don't wonder about other girls? Other women?" She looked away again, as if she was expecting a different answer.

"Are you completely mental? No, never. Why...do you?" Now it was my turn to be insecure.

"Do I think about other girls? Nope."

I chuckled, trying not to get any mental pictures.

"Look at me, Ron." I turned my head and she kissed me. "There'll never be anyone for me but you. I've been yours longer than you know and I don't see that changing."

"Good to hear." I folded my hands behind my head and exhaled.

Hermione stood and pulled her top back on. She padded out of the kitchen and came back holding her Muggle camera. Before laying down next to me, she handed me my t-shirt. I pulled it on and started to stand up.

"No, lay back down. I have an idea." I felt strange and silly laying on the kitchen floor in just my t-shirt, somehow laying there starkers was fine. I had only just noticed how cold the tile was on my bum. She cuddled into my arms and held her camera out in front of us.

"Say 'cheese'" She said as she kissed me on the cheek. The flash hurt my eyes, but I smiled. She took another and I turned my face toward hers and we kissed as the flash went off.

Before I knew it, the weekend home was over.

We were back on base away from home for a two-week stretch. It was the hardest part about the Auror program. We did much of the magic theory work in London at the Ministry but the physical training and field instruction took us all over. That afternoon we'd be dropped off Merlin-knows-where in teams of four for survival training. As we ate breakfast, I grumbled to Harry about Mum who still hadn't spoken to me.

The mail owls hooted at us as they flew in and swooped down with our packages. Ginny sent Harry a letter and a t-shirt from Salamanca. Harry had quite the impressive collection of t-shirts from Ginny. Every time the Harpies went on the road, she bought him one in each city. He smiled reading her letter. He folded it back up and stuck it in his shirt pocket.

"Ginny says hello." He said, grinning. He lifted the collar of the new shirt to his nose and sniffed. He gave a satisfied sigh and folded the shirt back up. He met my questioning look with a mischevious Cheshire cat grin.

"She bought a new perfume in Spain."

"She sprayed it on there?" I asked.

"No, she...she wore the shirt to bed before she mailed it. Clever girl, your sister." He got a faraway look on his face that told me he was probably thinking about my kid sister doing things I didn't need to know about. I cleared my throat loudly and shot him a look. The smug prat went on grinning at me.

I opened the package in front of me, shaking my head and trying to erase the thoughts of my sister and Harry from my mind.

Hermione enclosed a box of my favorite chocolate biscuits and a picture frame. As soon as I saw the picture of us, I turned crimson. We were clearly laying on our kitchen floor but since we both had shirts on, no one would know we were starkers from the waist down.

The day we moved into our own flat, and made it ours (so to speak) was forever frozen in time in this innocent-looking, unmoving Muggle photograph. I placed it on the table next to my bed on base and it stayed there until graduation. Lots of the members of my squadron saw it and commented on how beautiful Hermione was. They never missed an opportunity to take the piss out of me; asking how a goofy ginger git like me could keep a girl like her.

I smiled them all off. I knew she'd be waiting for me every time I got home and that's all I needed.

-end-


	2. Sand Storm

Month three – in the books.

Hermione and I had been living together for three months and even though I've spent a few weeks away here and there because of training, it's been bloody brilliant. I can't imagine waking up in this flat without her hair in my mouth. It's not as annoying as it sounds – the girl has a lot of hair on top of that adorable head of hers. I've spent plenty of time sleeping alone, my mouth and nose free of her locks tickling me. I didn't mind it at all.

We'd shared a bed on many occasions before moving in together of course. She spent the better part of that summer after the war in bed with me while I was still suffering from nightmares. Then that incredible New Year's when we were all alone at the Burrow. Not to mention the hotel room in Australia when we went to find her parents. All those occasions occurred because of extraordinary circumstances. When we rented this flat together I was most excited about the idea of the permanency of it. There was no expiration on the time we'd have together in our own place; no parents were coming home forcing us to sleep in separate rooms, she wasn't heading back to school. This was the beginning of our happily ever after.

Bill warned me it wasn't going to be easy at first. "You two are probably going have more than a few rows at the beginning. You'll do things that drive her insane and vice-versa; stuff you wouldn't know about before you live with each other. Sure, you're going to shag each other's brains out for a while, but eventually, you might even feel a little bored." He said.

_Not likely._ I thought. The idea that I'd ever get bored with Hermione was ridiculous. The idea that I'd get used to the noises she made when I made her pop…nope. Those are always going to do it for me. Bill must have read the doubt my face because he laughed.

"I'm not saying she's not going to turn you on anymore – but she's going to get on your nerves and you on hers." He added.

"We already get on each other's nerves, Billy." I said. "We've been that way since the day we met."

"You'll see." He said in that knowing way of his. "I love my wife and my kids are brilliant but I tell you, sometimes I'd just like to be able to watch the telly in my pants and not have anyone bother me." He winked.

Right after we moved in, I had to report back to the Academy for two weeks of survival training. I got a taste of what Bill was talking about when I returned. I walked in the door, dropped my stuff on the floor and kicked off my boots. I felt like I was wrapped in sandpaper. Two weeks in the bloody desert. All I wanted was a long bath and to eat a meal without feeling like I was chewing on an emery board.

Ok, so yes, I tracked sand in on my boots. Yes, I heard it falling to the floor from my clothes as I walked but bloody hell I had every intention of cleaning it up. I was home by myself, Hermione was still at work. As I was soaking in the hot tub, relaxing my muscles and getting the sodding sand out of my arse, I imagined a scenario of how I wanted the night to go. Hermione knew I was due back that day so she'd be so excited to see me when she got home at 5:15. I planned on being naked and in bed with her by 5:16, 5:18 the latest. I couldn't wait to snog her; couldn't wait to taste her skin. I imagined tossing her down on the bed and just ravaging her. The headboard she picked out had vertical slats in it, just wide enough for her to reach up for and grip when I went down on her. I like to think that she picked it out for just that reason.

I got my first wank out of the way, you know, so I'd last longer when Hermione got home. I let the water drain from the tub, wrapped a towel around my waist and went into the bedroom.

She'd hung a whole bunch of photos around the place while I was away. As I pulled on some fresh clothes, I smiled at the one of us at her parent's house. In the backyard, there's a swing hanging off the branch of a tree that she loved to sit on and read. I remembered the first time I'd seen her sitting there lost in a book. Freddy and I drove his new car down to pick her up over the summer before we started our 6th year. Fred let me drive the last hour of the trip while he tried reading the road map. I thought for sure he was going to get us completely lost.

"Fred, I swear if we don't get there soon, I'm going to leave you in the middle of wherever the bloody hell we are." I said gripping the steering wheel.

"Go ahead, Ronnie. I can Apparate." He said smugly. I gritted my teeth and cursed at him under my breath. I felt such relief when we pulled onto Hermione's street. I parked in front of the house and warned Fred to be on his best behavior.

"Do not embarrass me, Fred. Please, mate. Please?"

He smirked at me. It was unnerving when he smirked at me. He was either going to behave or do something so horrendous that I'd never be able to look at the Grangers ever again.

"Relax, little brother. I'm not gonna take the piss out of you in front of your girl's parents." He said.

"She's not my girl." I said, looking away from him.

"Well, she bloody well would be if you had any nerve." He said. "You must know that, Ron. You can't be that daft."

I was about to reply when I saw her sitting on the swing, one leg was tucked her while she sat. I didn't even think of how foolish I'd look if anyone saw me leaping from the car like a gazelle and sprinting to Hermione. I called her name and she looked up at me and smiled. It sent a flood through my body to see her smile like that. She jumped up off the swing and met me halfway on the grass. We met in a giant hug and I lifted her off the ground a bit. I felt her lips graze my cheek in a hello and I didn't hesitate to kiss her cheek right back.

We talked excitedly for a while until I heard Fred laughing behind us. He was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Granger a little ways away from us.

"Adorable at that age, aren't they?" I heard him say.

Git.

The day we got them back from Australia and got them settled, her family and mine had a big meal together and it was like a different world. This time when I hugged and kissed her in the yard, she_ was_ my girl, only Fred wasn't there to see it. I sat on the swing and she sat in my lap sidesaddle-like. We were talking, in our own little world when we heard her Mum call our names. When we looked up we saw that she was aiming Hermione's camera at us so we kissed and smiled.

I felt bad for Muggle photographers. They miss out on capturing so many moments and emotions. This photo of Hermione and me depicted so much more than a still photo could ever show: we kissed and smiled at the camera over and over again. That intimate moment caught forever. The day that photo was taken was the last day I saw her for quite a while.

She understandably wanted to spend as much time with her parents as she could. I was going back to the Auror Academy to make up for all the time I'd taken off and it would be months before we'd be together again. That was almost as difficult a separation as the time I was the biggest prat alive. I don't even like to think about it. I'm still ashamed of it. Hermione never mentions it but it really bothers me.

I looked at the clock on her nightstand, I still had a couple of hours before she was due home. I could fit a nap in before I cleaned up the sand and got my clothes into the hamper. I threw the towel to the floor and flopped down on the bed. I laid on Hermione's side; I wanted to smell her. Her scent filled me, the faint hint of coconut from her shampoo, the citrus body wash and the natural scent of her skin made me woozy and randy all at once. I fell asleep happy to be home.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I'd had such a long day at the Ministry. I hated how damn slowly everything worked. I was very idealistic I know, but I truly wanted to make a difference for house-elves and other creatures like Dobby and Pinky, who were drastically underrepresented in our government. When I was hired for the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures I was told that I'd have the capacity to better their lives.

So far, all I'd managed to do was get a bill read that would make denying a house-elf food as punishment an offense that would garner a fine. That's all. A bloody fine. No one could explain how the fine would be levied, either. A house-elf would never complain that his or her family had denied them food for being disobedient. House-elves are obedient, it's just their nature to serve. It was a sound-good piece of legislation that wouldn't ever help a single one of them.

Mostly, all I dealt with was stacks of paperwork a meter high and a cramp in my wrist from my grip on my quill, not results. I decided to walk home from work instead of using the Floo Network. It was a decent day weather-wise and I needed to clear my head. I was exhausted by the time I got home but I felt less stressed. I opened the front door and felt the resistance, something was up against the door.

I pulled my wand out of my pocket and flicked the light on. Ron's rucksack was tossed against the door. I'd completely forgotten he was coming home today. I saw his boots and his clothes and _sand_. Everywhere. So much sand I was sure if I could gather it all up I would be able to fill a sandbox for Victoire. I followed the trail of sand to the loo and saw even more sand in the tub and all over the rugs. I was livid.

I went into the bedroom and he was fast asleep on my pillow. I called his name a few times and rubbed his back until he woke up.

"Hey, babe." He said opening his eyes briefly.

"Hi." I said. I was very happy he was home but I felt like I could hex him for leaving such a disaster.

"When did you get home?" I asked.

"What time is it?" He asked me, rolling over.

"After seven."

"Did you just get home?" He sat up and wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yeah. I had a really crap day, I went for a walk." He leaned over and kissed me, pulling me into his chest. I was kissing him back but I couldn't get the images of the sand everywhere out of my head. It was an itch in my brain that I couldn't scratch.

"I missed you so much." He said snaking a hand up my blouse to unhook my bra. I pulled back.

"Not now, Ron. There's sand everywhere…" I said. I tried not to sound hyper-critical but I couldn't relax knowing the mess that awaited me.

"Forget the sand…" he kissed my neck but I pulled away,

"Ron, I said not now. I had a bloody awful day and now I have to clean the floors and the tub and…Ugh, why did you leave me such a mess?"

He turned away from me, got out of bed and stomped out of the room. I heard the water running in the tub, when I poked my head in, he was on his knees washing the sand down the drain with his hand.

"I'm sorry I made a mess but I've been in the bleeding desert for two straight weeks, Hermione. I couldn't care less about a mess, I just wanted to fucking see you." He snapped at me. He turned the water off and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Scourgify!" He cleaned the rest of the sand from the loo and pushed past me.

"I know I'm not as neat as you but can't you forget the fucking mess for an hour?" He dramatically pulled his clothes into a pile in his arms, more sand falling from the crumpled fabric.

"No, actually I can't. You've been gone, I've unpacked every last box and got this place sorted out. You've been home all day and left me a disaster!"

"Mione, I've not been on holiday – I've been busting my hump at the Academy…"

"Oh and my job is easy, is that it? Because I sit at a desk all day I couldn't possibly be too tired or too frustrated when I get home?"

"I didn't say that! Don't put words in my mouth!" He stomped past me again and tossed his clothes in the hamper. He came back and waved his wand and I watched the sand rise up off the floor. A second wave of his wand sent it all flying out the open window.

"There – is that better? For crying out loud, Hermione." He said

I had my arms folded tightly across my chest. "You could have done that hours ago and avoided this whole fight."

"And you could have actually been happy to see me." He snapped back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

If I knew we were going to fight over the sand, of course I would have bloody cleaned up. But I didn't, so send me to Azkaban already. I knew we were going to have to get used to certain things. At school, the house-elves picked up after us and at home, Mum did most of the cleaning up. I was willing to try to be neater, but Hermione was going to have to tolerate a certain level of disarray, (right?)

There was a good old-fashioned stand-off in the Granger-Weasley living room. She stared at me and I returned every centimeter of her glare. She was so bloody hot. I wanted to snog her so badly but I wasn't going to be the one break eye contact.

The seconds ticked away loudly from the clock in the hallway. _Tick, tock. Tick, tock._ I wet my lips and watched her eyes focus on my tongue. All wasn't lost after all.

She started chewing on the inside of her cheek and I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. _Your move, Hermione._

Without taking my eyes from hers, I brushed the fringe out of my eyes and crossed my arms, flexing. She shifted on her feet and I distinctly caught her glance down at my crotch. _Checkmate._

She looked back up to my eyes but she knew she was busted. She smirked and giggled a bit when I raised an eyebrow at her.

I let my hands fall to my sides and she walked to me and put her arms around me.

"I'm sorry." I whispered into her hair.

"Me too."

We didn't talk much until after we'd made love (moaning and groaning doesn't really count). We were in bed frustrations completely forgotten and I said "I'm home for a while now. At least a month until the next survival training mission. They're going to have us doing some physical training next time out – with a Muggle instructor!"

"A Muggle instructor? Whatever for?" She asked me.

"They're trying to incorporate some useful Muggle things. We're going to learn a fighting technique Muggle soldiers use. Hand-to-hand combat and all that. If we're disarmed we need to be able to fight our way out of a dangerous situation." I felt her cuddle in closer and grip me a little tighter.

"I can't think of you in danger. It's too scary." She said, kissing my chest.

"Love, we've both been there before." I said twirling her hair in my fingers.

"But I was there. I could keep an eye on you." She said. I laughed.

"Yeah, you protected my arse; I'll grant you that. It's Harry's job to cover my back now. And I've got his as usual."

"As long as you come home safe to me."

"Promise."


	3. The Flirtacious Neighbor

"Hotter for fuck's sake!"

I was growing increasingly impatient with the plumbing. The shower was running for more than a few minutes and it was still spewing water that could only be described as "tepid".

If Ron were home, he would be scowling, telling me to just use magic already. To which I would have replied that I wouldn't have to use magic if our lazy, good-for-nothing landlord would get around to fixing the bloody water heater.

Giving in, I sighed and waved my wand, the water instantly warmed to a reasonable temperature for a long shower. I stood under the hot water and squirted some body wash into my hands. The scent of citrus filled my nostrils as I worked up a lather. I felt the little exfoliating beads rolling back and forth in between my fingers as I worked my hands over my arms, my chest, stomach and finally my legs. I rinsed off and took the bottle of shampoo down from the rack hanging from the showerhead. Angelina had recommended the brand, saying it had worked wonders for her hair. I figured I had nothing to lose, even though I felt like I had tried hundreds of different products on my wild curls. At least this one smelled nice.

The hot water still blasting on me, I ran my wide-toothed comb through my hair and noticed a difference straightaway. The comb didn't catch on a single snarl and there was no embarrassing clump of hair clogging the drain.

After I finished, I grabbed a warm, fluffy towel and wrapped it around myself. Passing from the loo to the bedroom, I paused in front of the picture of Ron and me at my Hogwarts graduation ceremony. Our arms around each other's waists, I held my diploma proudly out in front of me and we smiled at the camera before turning to each other and sharing a sweet kiss.

He still had one year left of training before he was a fully-qualified Auror. Lately, training had him away from home more often than not. He and Harry were at the top of their class; which I knew was a point of pride, especially for Ron. He was finally being recognized for the talent I already knew he had. The instructors and fellow trainees recognized he was more than Harry Potter's friend. In one of his letters, he told me that in their down time, the others in his training unit peppered him with questions about our involvement with the Order of the Phoenix, our infiltration of the Ministry when we'd stolen the horcrux from Umbridge and about the Battle of Hogwarts.

Ron was not an attention-seeker, but this recognition by his peers as someone who knew things they didn't was doing wonders for his confidence. He was only completely confident and at ease with me. He knew he had nothing to prove, I loved him and that was that.

I dressed in denim shorts and a plain purple t-shirt and sandals. The best part about our building - what I had quickly discovered was the only good part about it - was the beautiful social room on the seventh floor. It was 360 degrees of windows and had an outdoor patio with a number of lounge chairs. The inside part sported a lovely fireplace and lots of comfortable couches and cushions for residents to use as they wished. I liked sitting there reading at night when Ron was away. The community room reminded me just enough of the Gryffindor Common Room that I could trick my brain into thinking Ron was just up in the Boy's dorm, or swiping extra food in the kitchens. I knew of course that he was in all likelihood several hundred kilometers away, learning about detecting and tracking the sources of dark magic, defense and interrogation techniques, among other things.

He told me the details of the physical training and it sounded just as mentally taxing as it was physically strenuous. The Ministry was gradually (and by that, I mean moving at a snail's pace in a salt mine) incorporating useful Muggle methods in different ways. For the Aurors, the instructors were teaching them a fighting technique called Krav Maga. It was a martial art utilized by many Muggle military forces all over the world. We encountered first-hand how physically demanding dueling and all-out combat could be. Ron and Harry were both excited about being in the first group of trainee Aurors to learn the technique. In the couple of weeks before the sessions were to begin it was all he could talk about - he was chuffed to bits. When the owl arrived the morning after his first session, I tore the parchment open, overflowing with excitement to read all about it. There were only eight words scrawled in smudged black ink:

"So bloody knackered. Thought I tore my bollocks."

At first sight, I yelped in concern. Then re-reading what he'd written, I laughed heartily. If being an Auror didn't work out, he could certainly find work writing greeting cards.

I grabbed a bottle of water from our fridge and tucked a paperback under my arm before heading up to the seventh floor. When the lift doors opened, I found the room deserted as it almost always was. The view wasn't particularly luxurious, but it was a nice spot to watch a sunset. I curled up in my favorite chair and cracked the bottle open, taking a long swig before opening my book at the page I'd marked.

"That boyfriend of yours sure leaves you alone a lot." I jumped at the unfamiliar voice. Looking up, I recognized our neighbor from the flat across the hall - what was his name? I couldn't remember.

"Yes, well...he's...in the military." I replied. It wasn't exactly a lie.

He leaned his body casually against the double paned floor-to-ceiling window directly across from where I sat. He must have been sitting outside when I arrived, I hadn't heard him come in. He wasn't quite as tall as Ron, but he had broad shoulders and a smallish waist - a swimmer's body I thought. His brown hair was cut short on the sides and in the back. There was some length at the top and he had it slicked back. His face was tanned and he had large, brown eyes.

"Oh the military, eh? What branch?" He asked a smile curling his full lips.

I paused, to buy some time, I said - "Pardon?"

"What branch of the military? Army? Air Force?" He crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke.

"Oh, erm- the branch that takes him away from me for weeks at a time." I said. He nodded.

"I'm sorry, I forgot your name..." he said, holding out his hand.

"Oh, I'm Hermione." I said, standing and shaking his outstretched hand.

"Her- what?" He knit his eyebrows together and took too long to release my hand.

I smiled and sat back down, "Her-my-oh-knee"

"Oh, Hermione! As in, _A Winter's Tale_, Shakespeare?" He responded. The reference took me by surprise. If anyone recognized my name as one they'd heard before, it was usually because of the actress Hermione Gingold.

"Yes, that's exactly right, _A Winter's Tale_." I smiled.

"Are your parents literary types, then? Professors?" He asked.

"Oh, no indeed. My parents are dentists. It's just a name they liked." Why was he looking at me like that? He reminded me of someone, I couldn't place him.

"Oh, that explains it, then." He said, knowingly.

"Excuse me?" What is he playing at?

"Your smile, it's perfect." He said, winking.

I smiled back, blushing. "Are you flirting with me?" I asked, amused.

"Only a bit. But now that I know your boyfriend could probably break my arms off, I'll stop." He plunged his hand casually into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped the pack in the palm of his hand and removed the plastic wrap. Taking one out for himself, he held the pack out, offering me one.

"Oh, no thanks." I said, waving it away. I promised Ron I would quit and I had. I knew it was a terrible, unhealthy crutch but when my nerves got the better of me, I found it terribly soothing. He put the pack back into his pocket and instead of going outside to smoke, he tucked the ciggy behind his ear and sat on the floor with his legs stretched out near me.

"You look so familiar. Where did you go to school?"

Why was he being so bloody nosy? I just wanted to read!

"Oh, erm - nowhere you'd know. A small - private - academy in Scotland." Again, not a lie.

"Sounds exclusive and expensive." He mused. I nodded.

"I've forgotten your name as well..." I said finally.

"Oh, it's Evan. Sorry, Hermione." He pulled his legs in and sat with them crossed. "So, is that where you met...Ginger?" Evan asked.

I normally wouldn't have, but I chuckled. "Yes, Ron and I met at school."

"Ron, right. You haven't lived here long, what do you think of the building?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know. It's fine. I love this room though, so quiet." Until nosy, good-looking neighbors interrupt me.

"This room is worth the bloody cold water." He said, motioning towards the windows.

"Yeah, that is a really annoying problem." I agreed.

We looked at each other for a few moments, growing uncomfortable with the silence. I didn't want to be rude, but I really wanted to read. I had just lowered my eyes to my book when:

"What are you doing for dinner?" He asked. I opened my eyes wide. He knew I had a boyfriend, a serious one given that we were living together.

"Erm - "

He shook his head, laughing. "My flatmate is making pasta, but she always makes too much. There'll be plenty if you don't want to eat alone." He clarified. I'd met his flatmate in the lift once - what the devil was her name? Dina? Dianna?

"Oh, I...I suppose that would be nice." The words came out of my mouth before I could process it. I had no intention of dining with this...whatever he was. Take it back, Hermione. Make an excuse.

"Excellent. See you in...an hour or so?" Without waiting for a response, he popped up and made his way to the lift. I was utterly bewildered, it was one of the odder chinwags I'd ever had, minus just about every conversation I'd ever had with Luna. One thought rotated over and over in my brain:

Why does he seem so familiar?

I read and re-read the same page of my paperback three times and still didn't know what it said. Sighing heavily, I closed it and stood up. I stretched my arms high above my head and yawned. I wasn't going to have dinner with Evan and what's-her-name but my stomach growled rudely and I realized I really did not feel like fixing myself anything. The invitation was there, why the hell not? I decided.

I grabbed a bottle of red wine from our liquor cabinet. I nearly dropped it when I heard keys in the door. I rushed to the front door, still holding the bottle by the neck and saw Ron tossing his rucksack down.

"Ron!" I motioned to wrap my arms around his neck but he put his hands up, stopping me.

"Sorry, love. Still very sore. Hi." He put his hand around my waist and pulled me in gently for a long overdue snog. When I ran my fingers through his hair I discovered he was entirely soaked to the bone.

"When did it start raining?!" I asked, surprised. I helped him pull his boots off and got him a towel. He stripped his wet clothes off right where he stood, leaving them in a pile on the floor. As he was drying off with the towel, I went to the bedroom and got him some fresh clothes.

"Thanks. Can you put them in the loo? I need a shower something fierce." I nodded and did as he asked. When I came back out, he was still starkers and had the towel hanging loosely around his neck. It wasn't until then that I noticed the new muscle definition.

"Bloody wow, Ron..." I said, taking him in. His chest and his arms looked remarkable, hard and strong.

"Oh yeah, I'm a regular bloody body builder over here." He said. "It's really wicked learning Muggle fighting but sodding hell it hurts." He bopped me on the nose with his finger as he passed by me for the loo. I playfully swatted his bum as he went by and found myself staring at it until he closed the door behind him.

As he showered, I went into the kitchen and found it embarrassingly bare. I didn't keep much food in the house when I knew I'd be on my own for long stretches. My mum always said I was like a caterpillar, I could live on a lettuce leaf if I had to.

He strutted into the kitchen in jeans and a thin cotton undershirt on. I saw something in his pocket, a squareish box – what the hell?

"What's that in your pocket?" I asked moving towards him. He smirked at me. I put my hand in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigs.

"Are you joking? You made me promise to quit and now you've picked up the habit?" He laughed.

"Nope."

I puzzled at him, studying his blue eyes for the answer. It dawned on me that it was the same brand that Evan had offered me in the community room. I opened the pack and there was only one missing. I didn't smell smoke on Ron when I hugged him at the door. He cocked his head to the side and I saw the missing ciggy tucked behind his ear.

"That was you upstairs!" I realized.

"Pretty good, eh?" He beamed, removing a small zippered pouch from his pocket. He opened it and I saw several clear glass vials. I pulled one out and saw a few strands of hair. I turned it to the side and read a label printed in Ron's handwriting:

"Blonde, brown, 6 ft"

I gave him a confused look and he kissed me.

"It was my idea. When we track people we should always have a flask of polyjuice," he gestured towards his ankle, "and a stock of disguises. Just in case, you know. The instructors are considering making these kits standard issue. I wanted to see if I could trick you. You know me better than anyone, if I could get by you, I can get by anyone."

"That is completely brilliant, Ron! I didn't know it was you at all!"

"I did get you to agree to have dinner with him, though." He said, faking a hurt expression.

I blushed. "Oh shut up!" I said playfully. "I was wondering why he was flirting with me so shamelessly."

"I only had to look and sound like someone else, I didn't have to pretend not to want to shag you." He teased.

"Why were you soaking wet when you came it – it's not raining…" I said, looking out the window. I watched him turn crimson and smile wickedly.

"Well…I was in the shower with you. Harry loaned me the Invisibility Cloak. I've gotten pretty good at hiding, I wanted to see if you'd notice."

"You're a perv. But I love you, anyway. I'm really proud of you, Ron. You really love this work." I said.

"You could say I've been training for it since we were eleven. It's important work. They've shown us some awful things, Hermione. I want to prevent those things from ever happening again."

The angry look in his eyes told me he needed to talk about it. I kissed him and he followed me to the sofa.

"They showed us photos. Death scene stuff. From the first war and the second. Harry's parents. It was awful." He clenched his fists.

I let that sink in and was appalled. "Harry was in the room? They showed the pictures from Godric's Hollow with Harry there?" He nodded.

"It didn't occur to them. They always show trainees those photos, we need to be prepared for what Dark Magic could do; we need to have respect for it." He said.

"But…Harry clearly knew that already! You too!" I said. I felt tears of rage welling up in my eyes.

"Harry already knew what happened. He saw it in the Pensieve, remember? That whole thing with Snape and his Mum?" He was staring at his hands.

"Yes but that was private – he had to see it all over again with a group of strangers?"

"Mione, we're like family, those blokes and us. We'd lay down our lives for each other if it came to that." His voice was so serious it gave me the shudders.

I considered what he said and nodded. I was very proud of him; very nervous about the inherent danger that went with his career but so proud of this man sitting in front of me.

"It won't come to that, though." I said softly, kissing his arm.

"No. It won't. I promise to always come home to you." He kissed my mouth.

_Gurgle._

We laughed.


	4. Black Ink on the Calendar

There are days Mother didn't warn me about, this was one of them. She didn't warn me because she still barely spoke to me. Nine months had elapsed since Hermione and I moved into our flat and my mother still hadn't set a toe across the threshold. Even Dad told me she was madder than he expected her to be.

The light at the end of the tunnel was in sight – graduation. Three of the longest bloody years of my life were almost over and I'd get my assignment to the Auror Office in London. My second and third choices were Birmingham and Bristol. I'm pretty sure everyone in my training squadron applied for London, but Harry and I were pretty much guaranteed our first choice of a home office. Not just because the entire Wizarding world pretty much owed us that much, but because he and I were at the top of our class. That's right, me, making top marks, call Guinness. No, seriously, call Guinness – I'm very thirsty.

Anyway, I woke up on the sofa this one Saturday morning to Hermione banging pots and pans in the kitchen and cursing. I dug some crust out of the corner of my eye with a fingernail before I sat up and watched her talk to herself.

"Where did you put it? Hermione Jean…What the hell did you do with it?"

"What are you looking for?" I tried to get more vertical but my morning stiffie was making me hunch a bit.

She tucked some of her hair behind her ear and looked up at me. "My red spatula. I cannot find my fucking red spatula."

I laughed because well, it was funny. She got so angry you'd think I'd called her a rude word.

"What are you laughing at?" Her nose wrinkled and I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears so I laughed again. She grabbed a salt shaker and hummed it at me. I caught it before it shattered our glass coffee table.

"What the fuck, Hermione? I just woke up, what could I possibly have done?"

She growled; not her "get over here and fuck me" growl but a sound she reserved for special occasions.

"I was going to make breakfast but I _cannot_ make eggs without my spatula." She spat at me.

"I can make eggs without it, let me do it. I just have to use the loo." I said, genuinely willing to let her sit and calm down while I cooked. I got up off the sofa and something hit me in the stomach. The matching pepper grinder bounced off me and landed on the middle cushion. I raised my eyebrow at her.

"I still can't find it!"

"And throwing things like a child is going to help you find it, how exactly?"

"Shut up, Ron!" She slammed the cupboard shut and went into the bedroom.

Crookshanks jumped up on the sofa and looked at me.

"Do you know what the bloody hell that was about? No, you wouldn't tell me if you did, would you?" I said to him, scratching behind his ears. This was about as affectionate as Crookshanks and I ever got. He'd occasionally permit me to scratch him until he was satisfied and then –

"Ouch – fuck you, you little bastard!" I was about to swat at him but he had his ears back and a paw raised, ready to claw my bollocks so I just walked away.

I was still shaking my head trying to decide what Hermione's issue was when I went into our kitchen. It took me precisely 15 seconds to locate the "missing" red spatula. It was in the oddest place, too. It was on the counter in the bucket with all of the other utensils, literally less than half a meter from where Hermione had been standing when she threw the salt shaker at me.

"Barmy. Thoroughly barmy." I said to myself. I padded down the hall to our bedroom and knocked.

"Babe? I found it." No answer.

"Mione?" I tried the knob and it was unlocked so I entered with caution.

She was on her side of the bed, facing away from me. I sat on my side and rubbed her arm.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She didn't say anything, she just dismissively "hmphed" at me.

"Do you still want eggs?" I offered. I watched her shoulder pop up in a shrug, which I decided meant 'Yes I do but I'm not going to tell you that. I'm just going to be hacked off at you if you don't make them for me.'

I retreated to the kitchen, Crookshanks had jumped on the bed next to her and meowed my dismissal from my pillow.

I just managed to pull the egg carton out of the fridge when it hit me. Eggs. Not the eggs in my hand, Hermione's eggs. Shit. I checked the calendar and sure enough she had made one of her marks in black ink on today's date, signifying that she was in fact, a week away from being shark bait. I knew it hadn't happened yet, those days of course were marked in red.

I chuckled to myself. Hermione had to be the only girl in the world who marked PMS on a calendar.

In my family, my parents didn't talk openly about these things. Mum handled the situation with Ginny, leaving my poor father the task of telling all six of his sons and Harry about the birds and the bees. Dad waited an extra year for my talk. Ginny nearly getting killed in the Chamber of Secrets sort of took precedent over my willy.

I'll never forget the day he walked into my room where Harry and I were laughing about Neville's boggart turning into Professor Snape in a dress. I couldn't read his expression, I thought he had dreadful news for us. He looked grim like someone had died. Harry and I shared a nervous sideways glance, both thinking Sirius had been found and given the Dementor's kiss.

"Boys, I need to talk to you."

Never a good way to start a chat, incidentally.

What followed was one of the most awkward things I've ever witnessed. Harry and I both had to try to look dignified while Dad mumbled through his speech using words like "penis" and "erection". I pinched the soft flesh of my inner arm to keep from laughing my bollocks off.

"Dad?"

"Y-yes, Ron?"

"George and Fred already covered this. It's ok." I tried to smile but I could barely even look at him.

He cleared his throat. "They did?"

"Yeah." Harry and I nodded.

"Ok, well…erm…good. If you have any questions, you can come to me, you know that, right?"

"Sure Dad. Will do." I said. Harry had his head down and he was biting his forefinger and sniggering. I elbowed him in the arm and he looked up.

"Absolutely, Mr. Weasley. Thanks."

Dad backed out of the room and shut the door behind him. Harry was about to speak when I covered his mouth with my hand. Dad came back in, looking perplexed.

"Are you sure you don't…have any questions?"

We both nodded with such enthusiasm it must have looked ridiculous. He half-smiled at us and walked out again, shutting the door.

"Oh. My. Merlin." I said, laying on my back on the floor. Harry curled into a ball, cackling.

"Your poor Dad has done that five times already; you'd think he'd be a little relieved to do it the last time." He said. "What did Fred and George tell you, anyway? I wasn't there…"

I smirked at him. I sat up and dug under my mattress and pulled out the skin mag my pervy brothers had given me two years earlier. I tossed it to Harry.

"Don't say I never gave you anything, mate." I got up and laid on my bed with my hands behind my head.

"Holy shit…" Harry said, his eyes bulging.

"That's nothing. I know where they keep the good stuff. I'll show you someday."

Of course, looking back on it – if I knew he'd be using what I taught him on my kid sister, I would have kept my big trap shut.

When we got back to school, I still didn't know why the girls in Gryffindor all seemed to hate each other and us blokes around the same time every month. Dad didn't cover that and it certainly wasn't something explained in the magazines. Growing up with so much testosterone in one house, I didn't think of it when Mum or Ginny were extra moody. I didn't realize there was a reason beyond them feeling outnumbered.

As was the case with the rest of my sexual education, my brothers explained it. George had been dying to get off with this Ravenclaw girl Regina Bakker and the morning after what was supposed to be their night George was the grumpiest git at the breakfast table.

"No good George? What happened?" Lee asked with a mouthful of toast.

Ever the master of delicacy, George took a heaping spoon of strawberry jam and splattered it on Lee's plate. I had no idea what it meant but Lee jumped back and cast a not very subtle look over at the Ravenclaw table.

"Ew! Gross! Did you get any on you?" Fred said loud enough to attract the attention of everyone sitting around us.

"No." George shook his head. "Just ruined my night, is all."

"I don't get it," I said "what ruined your night?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back into her textbook, George, Lee and Fred just stared at me. Back in the Common Room, George pulled me aside.

"They bleed?!" I whispered loudly after he explained it in my ear. Hermione cocked her head at me from across the room.

"Shhh!" She scolded.

So, red spatula in hand, I fixed Hermione's scrambled eggs (the edible ones); a little runny the way she liked them. Her toast was toasting, strawberry jam was at the ready. We didn't have any bacon but I found some sausage in the fridge and did them up quickly. I got a tray set up with a plate and some juice.

I balanced it on one hand so I could turn the doorknob.

"Mione?" I gently pushed the door open and she was sitting up on our bed, hugging her knees.

"You really made me breakfast after I snapped? Really?"

I shrugged and smiled, "I would prefer you not to chuck things at me but…"

"But you looked at the calendar." She said simply. "I'm really _really_ sorry, Ron. That was completely ridiculous of me. Uncalled for."

I put the tray down on the bed next to her and sat. She picked up a piece of toast and smiled as she nibbled it. I watched her eat and when she finished the last drop of juice I took the tray and placed it on the floor.

"You're good to me." She said smiling.

"You're my girl." I said, quoting that film she liked so much. She chuckled and held her arms out to me so I happily crawled up next to her and she kissed me. One kiss turned into another and another. I looked at the clock on the wall. She planted kiss after kiss on my mouth as I tried to speak:

"Mione? (kiss) I have (kiss) to get ready for (kiss) work, love. George (kiss) is expecting me in fifteen (kiss) minutes."

"So be quick about it then." She said, tearing her top off.

I groaned and cupped her tits in my hands. I pushed them together and buried my face in her cleavage while I licked her skin. I positioned myself in between her legs and kissed down her torso while I tugged her pyjama bottoms off. I didn't even have to touch her to know she was wet. I spread her open with my fingers and started teasing her clit with my tongue.

Her hands in my hair she rocked against my face, oohing and aaahing the deeper I pressed my tongue.

"Stop, Ron! Aaaah!" She moaned, suddenly pushing away.

I stood up, stripped off and she yanked me down onto the bed. She flipped on top of me and straddled my hips, my cock buried deep inside her. I grunted loudly while she rode me. I held her around the waist and flattened my feet on the mattress. Using my thigh muscles I lifted her up off the bed and she cried out my name.

Laying back flat on the bed I grabbed Hermione and rolled, planting her underneath me. She sucked on my bottom lip, moaning aggressively into my mouth while I pumped my hips and brought her to a very loud orgasm.

Her eyes were clamped shut and she dug her nails into my back. I kept going and she came a second time, not quite as loudly – the subsequent ones never are.

"Come on, Ron…come for me…come in me…" She begged.

I sucked her left nipple into my mouth, molding her tits in my hands. When I felt it coming, I pulled her legs up over my shoulders.

"Ohfuck, ohfuck, fuck!" I said, spilling into her.

_Knock Knock Knock_

"Now that you've finished, how's about coming into work Ron?" George's voice called from the other side of the bedroom door.

"George! Go away!" I shouted.

"I wouldn't be here if you could tell time!" He yelled back in his taunting, not-at-all-angry way.

His laughter faded as we heard his footfalls stomp towards our living room and he must have gone back to the shop through the fireplace, the flat was again silent.

"I've got to go." I said getting up. "He's going to take the piss out of me all week for this, the wanker."

She leaned up on her elbows. "We're going to have to do that a lot more."

"I'll be happy to oblige, Miss Granger. For now, I've got to go sell Puking Pastilles and Skiving Snackboxes en masse." I pinned on my name badge and found my belt.

"I'll see you tonight. I'll be the naked one in the kitchen." She said as I walked out the bedroom door.


End file.
